The Feel of you lingers
by Pilotofmymind
Summary: It had been two weeks since he'd last been here.  One-sided Rorschach/Nite Owl II


bGrey skies and light fading, headlamps making patterns on the wall/b

He was walking through the alley quietly, as the sun disappeared behind him, and the street lamps slowly flickered to life. The light shining behind him threw his shadow out across the ground in front of him as he walked, creating an eerie shape. (iAlmost showing the monster he had hiding inside of him./i)

He stopped in front of the old rundown warehouse, his hand hovering over the door handle, he let his hand fall, pushing the handle toward the ground, pushing the door open slowly he frowned as the hinges screeched loudly in protest. It had been two weeks since he'd last been here.

Two weeks since his life had been thrown into the ocean, ruthlessly battered against the rocks, utterly shattering any control he'd had over things.

iHe was barely holding on now. Hanging on by his fingernails, not counting on holding on much longer. There was a dark pool opening underneath him, gaping, and hungrily lapping at his feet, as he struggled to pull himself up again, up to safety.

The hand that had been extended to him for so long was starting to pull back, and he was grasping at it wildly, not wanting to lose the last shred of reality he had. Not wanting to give up on himself, but knowing it was inevitable.

His grip was becoming weaker, he was slipping further into the black hole, and now he couldn't even see the fingertips of the friendly hand, and he was closing his eyes against the pain of his fingernails snapping out.

He closed his eyes harder against the pain of letting go. The pain of falling down, down, down. Further into the darkness than he'd ever thought possible. It was a bottomless pit of madness.

And he was the very center of it./i

Walking down the tunnel in utter quiet Rorschach wasn't sure what he expected. Wasn't sure if he was looking, or spying. Several minutes passed before he paused at the exit of the tunnel, and peered at Archie. The owl-ship he'd spent so many hours in.

Rorschach wasn't sure why he had come. Wasn't sure why he always came. Daniel quit. Daniel was a traitor. Let other people make his decisions for him. The Keene act had controlled his career, and he had let it.

Daniel had left him behind.

To rot.

Just like everyone else.

Daniel didn't care. He didn't want to remain friends with Rorschach. He'd never cared to be friends.

bUptown it's dead now but, out here no one seems to care at all/b

Rorschach growled low in the back of his throat as he turned around, remaining in the shadows he started to walk away, down the tunnel toward the abandoned warehouse, it was as close as he could stay to Daniel without letting the man know it was ihim/i. Without alarming the man.

Rorschach exited the warehouse quietly, unobserved, and began walking down the street. It was just him now. He didn't have another partner (iand he didn't want one/i). And it was to be just him for the rest of his career, however long i(or short)/i that could be.

Turning down an alley, he walked through it slowly, realization setting in in him. Daniel wasn't going to be here anymore. Not tonight. Not tomorrow, not next week, month, year. Never. Daniel would never be there to watch his back. Daniel would never be there to tell a nervous joke, force a nervous laugh, after a close call.

Daniel was igone./i

He had lost the only person he'd cared about.

iBut he hadn't bcared/b about him!/i

Rorschach growled low in his throat as confusing thoughts ran through his mind. Something about the thought of never patrolling with Daniel again, never stopping in before patrol for a cup of coffee, never seeing him casually again, made Rorschach's chest hurt.

And that confused him more then anything else.

Why was he experiencing these strange feelings? Why did he suddenly feel so... iweak?/i

bSlick girls and sick boys and each one lining up to take it home/b

Something was burning in his chest, and he didn't know why. Something made him want to turn around and go back to Daniels, to ask him i'Why?'/i. Though he knew the answer he didn't care. He didn't think it was right. And damnit, it fuckin'ihurt/i.

It wasn't fair. None of it was ifair/i!

Walking down the side walk, almost casually, Rorschach slipped his hands into his pockets, and turned his gaze to the ground, unsure of how to deal with the feelings bubbling up inside of him. Threatening to flow out of him. Threatening to hurt him, hurt someone around him. Threatening to put the blame in the wrong place.

Though he knew that it would be ieasy/i to blame a criminal for the way things had happened, he knew that he would be wrong. And eventually when he went home, he'd have to face the facts that he was putting the blame on someone else.

But he didn't know how else to deal with the things he was feeling. And he was damned if he was actually going to iadmit/i that he was hurt, that he was sad, the he was teetering on the edge now that Daniel was gone.

iNow that Daniel was gone there was no one to catch his arm, and drag him back to safety. And he didn't know how he was going to save humanity band/b himself.

He needed Daniel. He'd always needed Daniel.

He was the balance in Rorschach's life. He was what kept Rorschach's life form folding in on it's self.

He meant more to Rorschach then he was willing to admit.

And he was teetering on the edge.

He was slipping forward with no way to catch himself, as he spread his arms wide to embrace the air that was rushing up to meet him.

He was falling, down, down down.

Tumbling through the air, closing his eyes against the harsh wind. Praying that Nite Owl would catch him. Cradle him to his chest, and keep the cold out.

bBut he wasn't willing to admit it to himself.

Never compromise. Never. /b/i

bThey hold tight their coin and pray no one has to see the fall/b

Rorschach wasn't sure when he'd gotten on the roof, but it didn't matter. Though he should have been paying more attention to where he was going, what he was doing. But it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was that he clean the streets of the filth that walked through the night, straight into the morning, when it would slither back into the darkest corner it could find.

Where it would stay until darkness over took the city, once again.

Rorschach went to stand at the edge of the building, slipping his hands into his pockets as he gazed out over the city, thinking over the past two weeks. The nights he'd spent patrolling without Nite Owl. He couldn't help but think of how much colder they'd seemed.

Resting his foot on the edge of the small wall surrounding the roof to keep people from falling over, he gazed down into the streets. That was quite a drop. He couldn't help but wonder what it felt like when people jumped, or were dropped.

"Hnnk." he quickly moved back, wondering what was wrong with him. Had the city's filth gotten so bad that it had poisoned him?

No.

Never Rorschach.

Rorschach was pure. The filth of the city couldn't touch him. He was clean. And he was good.

bI'm there, yeah I serve them, the one with the empty looking eyes/b

He could look out across the city from here. He could see the filthy whores, and politicians propositioning each other on the streets. Sick. It made him feel as if he could vomit. But he wouldn't. He'd wait for them to kill each other.

All the filth would eventually kill each other, and only the good would be left.

Daniel...

bCome closer, you'll see me: the face that is used to telling lies/b

Rorschach was surprised to see Daniel walking through the streets. The filth wasn't i(couldn't)/i touching him, as he walked through it, seemingly unaware of all of the trash surrounding him.

He was gliding through the streets, and much to his shock Rorschach found himself slipping down the fire escape to follow the man. Maneuvering in the shadows the best he could, he stayed back ten or so feet, so as not to alert Daniel, as he followed him through the filth.

He wouldn't allow it to touch him either. Rorschach was pure. Walter may have been tainted by the filth, but not Rorschach, never Rorschach...

bSaturday nights in neon lights, Sunday in the cell/b

Rorschach was somewhat shocked to see Daniel entering a bar. It wasn't right. Not Daniel. Nite Owl went in bars, only to gather information. Not Daniel. Never Daniel.

Something was wrong.

Rorschach hesitantly approached the bar, standing in front of the bar, partially in the shadow of a car, he stood watching the door, waiting for Daniel to reemerge. He didn't want Daniel to now he was being followed. But with each passing moment he was tempted to enter the bar, and drag the other man out, explain to him that what he was doing was wrong. Was filthy.

He needed to be cleaned.

He needed to understand that he was doing something bad.

But iwhat/i was he doing?

bPills enough to make me feel ill, cash enough to make me well/b

Rorschach slowly walked to the door, putting a hand flat against the door he slowly pushed it open, and peered inside. He saw Daniel sitting at the bar, with Hollis. That was strange. Usually they met at Hollis's home, every Friday. It was Saturday.

...Wasn't it?

Rorschach frowned, as he let the door shut, stuffing his hands into his pockets, he went to crouch at the corner of the building, he knew he should be patrolling... but he really, really wanted to understand why Daniel was in a bar (more of a pub really.).

Taking his fedora off he ran a hand over his head, replacing the fedora he fixed his eyes on the door of the bar, his heart beating harder each time it opened. And disappointment settling heavily on his shoulders each time the person that exited was not Daniel.

After several hours Rorschach,as annoyed as he was, found himself with his back against the brick of the bar, and gazing up into the sky, wondering why Daniel had abandoned him, all the while convincing himself that he didn't care. That he had only ever thought of Daniel as a partner, and nothing more.

Especially not a friend.

Rorschach growled low in the back of his throat as he climbed to his feet, he'd had enough waiting. Daniel was not coming out soon, and he didn't intend to sit in the gutter waiting for the man for the rest of his life.

And so he decided that it would be best to redirect his anger, his hurt, his lonesomeness i(though he'd never admit it)/i on someone else. The filth of New York city. The trash that polluted the street. All of the whores, and all of the pimps.

He walks the streets, alone, always alone. Filtering in and out of the light on the streets. He pauses under a street light and looks toward an alley. The city is quiet tonight. Perhaps they too mourn for the loss of Daniel? (iThough he'd never admit that he does./i)

Take me, take me to the riot

Take me...

You sprung me, I'm grateful

I love when you tell me not to speak

I owe you but I know you, you'll have me back but it's gonna take a week

What now kid?, which way love?

Will we ever make up and be friends?

Good news is my shoes is lined with all my nickels and my tens

Let's do them! Just feed me... I hate when I have to get to sleep

You despise me and I love you

It's not much but it's just enough to keep...

Saturday nights in neon lights, Sunday in the cell

Pills enough to make me feel ill, cash enough to make me well

Take me, take me to the riot

And let me stay...


End file.
